


Pick-me-up

by tirralirra



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bad Pick-Up Lines, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Flirting, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Post-Time Skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:34:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28424808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tirralirra/pseuds/tirralirra
Summary: “So, tell me, do you believe in love at first sight, or do you think I should walk in again?”...A handsome man hits on Kiyoomi at a bar.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 32
Kudos: 236





	Pick-me-up

**Author's Note:**

> **CW:** Alcohol, minor sexual innuendo

The bar is discreet. It sits near the central train station in a university neighborhood, but off one of the less-trafficked entrances. A simple, nondescript glass front on the ground level of a mid-rise office building transforms at night, spilling warm light and soft laughter onto the sidewalk from sunset to near sunrise.

It’s a narrow space, the bar running one length of the interior with only ten stools or so. A backroom, if it can be called that, has a single table with folding chairs and the door to a small bathroom. Behind the bar counter, shelves placed haphazardly on the wall hold more records than liquor. A turntable balances precariously on one shelf. At some point since Kiyoomi had stumbled on the joint in college, the owner had added a laptop to expand the music catalogue, but the old-school vibes remained.

Kiyoomi doesn’t particularly like drinking for fun or recreation, but he found this bar a welcome respite in the sea of cheap izakayas and rowdy drinking circles when he wanted to let loose a little, back in university. Now, on a visit to his parents in Tokyo and in the absence of any other company, he finds himself seated at one end of the narrow bar after meandering through his old college haunts during an evening walk. Despite the young atmosphere of the neighborhood, its clientele spanned all ages and all walks of life, so even now, many years removed from his student days, he doesn’t feel out of place. 

He’s nursing his second pour of a fine single-malt and enjoying the quiet murmur of music and the other patrons’ conversations when a voice cuts through the noise.

“Excuse me, I was wondering if you could help me,” someone says from behind him, and Kiyoomi turns to face the newcomer.

He can’t help the slight raise of his brows, the minute widening of his eyes. Kiyoomi rarely wears surprise, but the man settling into the seat next to him is enough of a pleasant sight to give him pause. He looks unusually stylish for this hole-in-the-wall bar: dark burgundy slacks and a matching suit jacket slung over his shoulder cut a sharp contrast with the fine white button-up shirt, open at the top few closures. His platinum blonde hair falls in artful tousles to one side of his face. Honey eyes glint with mischief, and a shiver runs up Kiyoomi’s spine.

“It’s just that,” the man continues, catching Kiyoomi’s eye, “I thought this was a bar, but it must be a museum, since you are truly a work of art to behold.” One corner of his mouth lifts into what he must think is a charming smile.

Oh, so they’re going to play this game? Unoriginal, but Kiyoomi is feeling generous; he’ll play along for now. He gives a small smile back, motioning the bartender for another drink.

“I haven’t heard that one before. Is something wrong with your head, to think that kind of line would really work?” Kiyoomi intones, feigning nonchalance and looking at his companion with a skeptical sideways glance. He turns back to face the bar and takes a drink.

“I don’t know for sure, but there must be something wrong with my eyes. I can't seem to take them off you,” the man says, taking the new drink from the bartender and tips his head to Kiyoomi before winking and taking a sip.

Kiyoomi nearly chokes on his drink, but outwardly composes himself and merely hums with disinterest.

The man leans in closer towards his seat, whispering conspiratorially. “So, tell me, do you believe in love at first sight, or do you think I should walk in again?”

This time, he was a little more prepared for the line. Kiyoomi manages to keep a straight face, and instead puts on a show of entertaining the question from his would-be suitor. He looks up and away thoughtfully, and anywhere but the other’s no-doubt smug face.

He finally settles on a response, and slowly turns to face him again. “I don’t know. Does my true love have a name, or should I keep calling him Mr. Terrible-Pick-Up-Lines in my head?”

“Please, the name is Miya Atsumu,” he replies, and deliberately places his free hand close to Kiyoomi’s on the bar. They are a hair's-breadth from brushing pinkies. He taps it tantalizingly on the smooth wooden surface. “You can call me Atsumu, though. And how about you, Handsome? Do you have a name, or can I just call you ‘mine?’”

Kiyoomi gives him a long look at that, pointedly scrutinizing the other man up and down with heavy consideration.

“You can call me Omi,” he finally says, not quite able to withhold the huff of exasperation.

“On a first name basis already, Omi-kun? How forward of you,” he teases lightly.

“More of a nickname, just for you, Miya,” Kiyoomi’s lips twist up at his own little joke.

“Call me Atsumu, really.”

Kiyoomi inclines his head in lieu of replying, and gestures for a toast. “To chance encounters.”

They clink glasses, and Kiyoomi finishes his drink. The silence is comfortable for a minute while Kiyoomi waits for a glass of water. Internally, though, he tries to quell the growing affection for the man sitting next to him as it sings through his blood, borne by the buzz of the alcohol.

“And you? What brings you here?” he finally asks, honestly curious at the other man’s appearance.

“You could say I’m looking for ‘the one,’” the man replies, tossing his hair playfully with a flamboyant gesture of the hand. Then, he continues with a waggle of eyebrows, “or one night, depending on what you’re interested in. So, tell me, aside from being drop-dead gorgeous, what do you do for a living?”

Kiyoomi almost gives in when sees the exaggerated, fluttering eyelashes. Almost. “You could say I’m involved in sports.”

He decides to fire back a direct shot before he gets another cheeky response to that. He’s not one for cheesy lines, but he knows one.

“I must say, you look good too,” Kiyoomi starts, and bends forward to purr into the other’s ear. For a second he thinks he’s got him on the edge, breath catching almost imperceptibly.

“That outfit looks great on you, but it’d look even better at the foot of my bed,” Kiyoomi finishes, triumphant. 

Instead of blushing though, like Kiyoomi intended, he seems to gather himself, then grins and preens. He fondles the fabric over his chest a bit suggestively, “You like? It’s made of boyfriend material.”

Damn it. Kiyoomi wills his own sudden flush to go down, but the whisky from earlier only fans the flames on his cheeks. As if sensing victory in their repartee, his conversation partner slants a self-satisfied smirk as he angles back into Kiyoomi’s space. He breathes his next words right into the sudden cavern of Kiyoomi’s lungs.

“You know, you’re nearly perfect. There’s only one thing I want to change about you, and that’s your last name.”

That’s the final straw. Kiyoomi can’t take it anymore. The laughter simmering in his chest since the start of this exchange bubbles up and overflows, giggles becoming a steady, roiling chuckle, then a gleeful, unrestrained laugh. For a moment, his companion’s face falls, but then he grins and joins Kiyoomi’s glee.

“Aw, c’mon, Omi-kun, couldn’t you humor me for a bit longer?” Atsumu tilts his head sideways and pulls his lips into a mock pout.

“Atsumu, I endured your awful flirting much longer than it deserved,” Kiyoomi says, still trying to regain his composure. Atsumu isn’t helping.

“You wound me,” Atsumu cries and makes a dramatic pose, clutching his heart with a grimace.

Kiyoomi just rolls his eyes, and grabs Atsumu’s hand to pull it up between them with a final huff of a laugh. The gold ring flashes and clinks with his own when he interlocks their fingers.

“You already got your wish—I am a ‘Miya’ now, and have been for—” Oh. That must be why Atsumu is here. It’s their anniversary tomorrow.

Atsumu’s eyes glimmer in the dim lighting of the bar, holding Kiyoomi’s gaze. He tosses aside all the fake sleazy charm for his usual earnesty and adoration.

“Did you remember?” he says, not accusatory, but pleased. His smile is soft, indulgent.

“Yes, but what about Osamu’s new restaurant opening in Sendai?” Kiyoomi is sure they didn’t have anything planned other than Atsumu’s trip and Kiyoomi’s visit to Tokyo. They don’t tend to make a big deal over significant dates, not after all this time, and Atsumu had gone to Sendai with Kiyoomi’s blessing.

“I went, of course, but you go to four restaurant openings and the fifth isn’t much different, Omi-kun. I left after the main festivities.” Atsumu leans his head onto Kiyoomi’s shoulder, and continues, “I know we don’t like to fuss over anniversaries, but I figure every once and a while it’s okay. I wanted to be with you.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Kiyoomi squeezes their intertwined hands a little. “You made a two hour trip at this time of night to get back here and surprise me? How did you even know where to find me?”

“Geez, let me keep some secrets, Omi. And I just wanted to spice things up. What if you start getting bored of me, now that we’re an old married couple, huh?” Atsumu jokes, nuzzling his head into Kiyoomi’s shoulder further and mussing his hair.

“Atsumu,” Kiyoomi’s heart swells with the flood of his feelings for this endearing man beside him, “I could never be bored with you. Every day by your side feels like an adventure.”

Atsumu smiles into his shoulder, but doesn’t say anything, content in their easy affection. Kiyoomi gestures for the bill, and pays for their drinks. They exit the bar and head back into the night, hands still clasped together, shoulders brushing casually.

Kiyoomi, content, but feeling sentimental, runs through their conversation again, fresher for being in the sobering night air.

“Why the pick up lines?” He wonders aloud, and Atsumu gives a little snort and gently jostles him.

“Just thought it’d be fun. Maybe I’m lamenting that we never got to have a meet-cute. Just a little, though. I wouldn’t change us now for the world, Kiyoomi.”

That’s an understatement. There was nothing cute about how they met, all of sixteen and full of pride and spite in equal measure.

“If you had tried any of those on me when we first met, Atsumu, I don’t know if I would’ve ever spoken to you again,” Kiyoomi lies, “but I’ll forgive you tonight, as long as you’ve got those silly lines out of your system now.”

Atsumu hums, then spins in front of Kiyoomi and brings them both to a stop.

“Hey Omi, do me a favor, will you?” he says, looking straight into Kiyoomi’s eyes with a serious gaze.

Kiyoomi lifts a brow at Atsumu, but answers sincerely. “Anything, Atsumu. Always.”

There’s a beat where they stare into each other’s eyes and Kiyoomi feels all the solemnity and gravity of their love that keeps them in orbit of each other, pulling them together and pushing them to be better with every step. Then Atsumu punches through the moment.

“Kiss me if I’m wrong, but dinosaurs still exist, right?”

It takes a full three seconds for Kiyoomi to register that, and Atsumu is already grinning and snickering, pulling ahead of Kiyoomi on the sidewalk. Kiyoomi has to stumble forward to catch his hands as he skips backwards, and he quickly traps Atsumu in a warm embrace.

Atsumu is still laughing when Kiyoomi pulls him into a kiss, though if Kiyoomi’s lips turn up at their corners too, well, it’s between the two of them only.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write some fluffy established relationship with a twist. Inspired by [I Want To Be Your One Night Stand](https://youtu.be/LxTDzDJ-VuM) by Jeremy Messersmith (that was actually the working title right up to the end). Also, I wanted to prove to myself that I can write coherently under 3k.
> 
> Shhh this is in some slightly distant future where they can get married in Japan. All fluff, no substance, thank you for reading~
> 
> Additional note! No, I did not come up with all the pick-up lines. They are all from (terrible) pick up line compilations, but I think are also pretty ubiquitous <3
> 
> As always, feel free to say hi to me on [Twitter.](https://twitter.com/tirralirralirra/status/1344188993324408833?s=20)


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